


(Day 13) Loveseat

by mydwynter



Series: January Sherlock Vignette Challenge [13]
Category: Sherlock (TV), Sherlock Holmes & Related Fandoms
Genre: Coffeeshop AU, Humour, M/M, Mrs. Hudson is a shipper, Sherlock is the bane of baristas
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-01-16
Updated: 2013-01-16
Packaged: 2017-11-25 19:07:39
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 289
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/642055
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mydwynter/pseuds/mydwynter
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p><i>Sherlock stomped into the shop, scowled as he placed his order, and sprawled lengthwise across the small sofa with his latte to stew silently, shoulders hunched high inside his coat.</i> </p><p>Mrs. Hudson is only trying to help.</p>
            </blockquote>





	(Day 13) Loveseat

**Author's Note:**

> My mind rebels in stagnation. So every day for the month of January I'm posting a Sherlock vignette, born out of prompts from generators and friends alike, little pieces written quickly and posted, sketches made from words.
> 
> Today's prompt via [Moonblossom's Sherlock Prompt Generator](http://moonblossom.net/prompter/): Sherlock, Mrs. Hudson, coffeeshop AU, NSY, "loveseat"
> 
> Thanks to Mazarin221B for the beta.
> 
> (nb: "New Scotland Yard" is the name of the coffee shop in this AU. I've actually planned out this and the pirate AUs, since they keep coming up in the generator.)

Sherlock stomped into the shop, scowled as he placed his order, and sprawled lengthwise across the small sofa with his latte to stew silently, shoulders hunched high inside his coat. The new barista stared in fear as he took his first sip, waiting for judgement to fall. But Sherlock was too locked inside his head to take any notice of his drink, and when no invectives were hurled the worker sagged in relief and went back to her day.

Mrs. Hudson stopped on the way upstairs to her rooms above the shop, noticing the dark cloud hovering over their scientist's head. "Oh dear, Sherlock," she said, head tilting to the side in empathy. "What's the trouble today?"

"The coconut brioche flavourant is pedestrian and insipid," he groused.

"Is that the experiment you've been so excited about this week?" She swept a lock of hair behind his ear. He made a face, but didn't twitch away.

"Obviously. I can't get the smell of burnt sugar out of my coat."

"Well," she said with a mischievous smirk. "I know better than to suggest you smell sweet."

He rolled his head back to glare balefully at her.

She giggled. "I bet John would think you were edible."

If possible, his mood darkened further. "Ridiculous."

Mrs. Hudson was obviously trying not to smile too broadly. "You don't know everything, Sherlock. It's perfectly plain to me how you two feel. I might even say you're sweet on each _other_."

"Leave now." Sherlock rolled into the back of the loveseat, curling up so he'd fit. 

She laughed merrily. "Give it some thought," she trilled, then continued toward the back staircase, humming.

"As if I hadn't already," Sherlock sighed to himself, huddling deeper into his coat.


End file.
